


stay if you wanna love me, stay

by Pixielle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Career Angst, F/F, Future Fic, figure skating, wlw author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 15:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixielle/pseuds/Pixielle
Summary: time passes, and somehow Otabek still feels the same about Yuri as she did ten years ago. growth is inevitable and life is always messy, but it's especially messy when the love of your life is your main competition.





	stay if you wanna love me, stay

_When it comes to love, you’re an easy fight_  
_A flower in a gun, a bird in flight_  
_It isn’t fair and it isn’t right_  
_To lead you on like it’s all alright_

_I played with your heart_  
_And I could treat you better but I’m not that smart_  
_You still mean everything to me… to me._

 

They had split off after practice that afternoon, Otabek dropping Yuri at Lilia’s studio not far from their apartment. 

_Yuri’s apartment, damn._

The drop off was routine for the most part, since Otabek and her team had done a mid season move to work with the Russian national team. Everyone had agreed that this was the best decision, as Otabek was making the push to her first Olympic gold and needed the extra resources. However, nothing could make her train with Lilia. She would rather keel over in the alley and die than attempt that.

However, she was willing to put in additional flexibility training as suggested by her coach. 

Otabek watched Yuri run into the studio with a wave and a grin, her braid of thin strands of pale blonde flitting behind her, thoroughly messy from practice and the ride over through traffic. 

No, it wasn’t related to Otabek pulling her in for a completely friendly searing goodbye kiss after she had handed over her helmet. Not at all.

Otabek headed back for the apartment, a sadly short ride that took less than five minutes. She parked and pulled the key from the ignition of her rented bike. Otabek had wanted to have her original first motorcycle shipped in from Almaty within a month of being in Saint, but in the end the shipping company refused it, it had been in too rough of shape for it to survive the trip. 

While the new model hellcat suited the rambunctious busy roads of St. Petersburg, she missed the sound of her deafening engine ripping through the mountainous countryside. It had only been two months and she was already homesick. As she took the keycard Yuri had given her and beeped herself in, she wondered how she had survived nearly five years away from home while she was a teenager. A different world, a different time.

She hung her bag and jacket at the front door and walked into the kitchen to get the rice on to cook and the chicken into the oven. That was one of the benefits of this whole living with Yuri thing during the season, Otabek was an awesome cook and Yuri lived on convenience store salads during the season (though she did like to bake when they had time!). So, in actuality, Yuri benefitted more than Otabek but they wanted some sort of excuse for their coaches as to why they wanted to live together other than being “best friends”.

The basics for coconut curry finally put together and the timer going, Beka ran back into the bedroom and changed into a pair of plain leggings and shucked off her practice shirt that left her in her sports bra. The shirt just got in the way once she really got into it, and it was hard enough for her to get into the poses to begin with. Otabek grabbed the mat from the closet and hugged it to her front while digging through her athletic pants pocket for her phone. No notifications except for a message reply from her older sister and the normal SNS. 

She sighed and begrudgingly gave Pyocha, who was asleep on Otabek’s pillow, a quick rub behind the ears and whispered a quiet, “here we go.” Pyocha didn’t stir, and just gave a quiet chirp at the affection, eyes still closed. Beka let a small grin break through the grumpy mood at the encouragement, before turning away towards the living room. She found the stupid calming music with the stupid timed beeps to switch poses and threw her phone on the coffee table to let it start while she stretched out the mat and her tired muscles. 

Training had been… rough the past few weeks, to say the least. Otabek had made the decision to change three separate elements in her program last minute just before the competitions began, and the Ladies Singles division this year more so than previous ones was rife with young, talented new seniors. 

After being in the division for over half a decade, it was starting to wear on her. Beka considered herself unique in her style and approach, but there were only so many classical pieces and traditionally beautiful programs in the world. She still had memories of Yuri, years ago at age 17, asking her “why don’t you skate to something interesting this season?” 

If that wasn’t the first rung on the ladder down to hell. 

Yuri, of course, hadn’t meant anything malicious behind it, and after she saw Otabek’s face fall she corrected her phrasing and apologised profusely. But she was right, change and growth is the only way to success. Yuri was proof of that.

Beka moved through to another pose, pulling her knee towards herself in a way that felt incredibly unnatural, but nothing snapped, crackled, or popped so she considered it correct. 

As she sunk into a not-quite meditative state, her thoughts moved between too many different topics, some inducing anxiety and others bringing peace to her mind. In the end, it was assuring that eventually her limbs started to loosen out and the tension in her neck and lower back soothed. Physically, she was fine. Mentally and emotionally, there was a bit to be desired. Soon the beeps started to fade into the background behind her thoughts, and she closed her eyes in concentration.

When she closed her eyes though, and finally focused, she found herself fading back to a few key memories that stood out now. She cursed her nostalgic heart in that moment, but her passion for her past was what pushed her to success, and to Yuri. 

Memories of her first gold medal in the Grand Prix series, when she had landed her first axel as a child, and eventually landing the first clean triple axel ever at Four Continents. News media covered her as if she was a miracle, a fairly unknown skater from a foreign land who pushed through to excel of her own volition. A knight moving forwards, pushing into new territory. An idol, not only for her own country but for all of Eurasia. And, in the end, a hero for so many young girls searching for success in a sport that can force you into an incredibly tight mold and easily spit you out the other side if you don’t fit. She held all of those mantles to her heart as closely as she could through both success and failure. Like success, time swells and compresses, and things change. Always.

Like when Yuri had stared through her in that first ballet class together as children, and the time when Yuri tried to casually mention with a scared wavering voice that she was attracted to girls. That time they had ended up clasped together in a hug so tight, Yuri’s anxious tears finally falling against Otabek’s neck and collarbones, Beka’s hands soothing over her back and nosing through her shorter-than-now hair. It had taken everything in her to hold in the, “Me too.” simmering below the surface. Yuri’s mental stability had been more important in that moment than any teenage crush could have ever been.

In the beginning, Beka had just thought her affection for Yuri was idolic infatuation and she was realistic about it. Once Barcelona happened and Yuri was just as enthusiastically into her as a person as she was, out blossomed a crush that didn’t, wouldn’t go away. It was so gradual and patient that it took an insufferably long time for Otabek to even realize her attraction was romantic. And in the end, she would have forgotten about it in a second to preserve their friendship. But it hadn’t worked out that way.

Visions of the future mingled with the past, fuzzy and warm compared to the cut and dry of the past. Rose tinted glasses hadn’t ever been something Otabek struggled with, it was idolization of the future that did her in. Thoughts about her skating, inadequacy, how far she could push onward and upwards before the crash. Thoughts about Yuri, together, how little it would take to stay right here in St. Petersburg with her forever…

 

The timer on her phone paired with the slamming of the front door scared her out of her very relaxed (and frankly held way too long) child’s pose. Beka flipped up into hero so fast she got a head rush and had to close her eyes again for a few seconds before grabbing her phone to turn off the timer.

“My guess is is that timer is for whatever awesome smelling food is in the oven,” the voice carried from the entry through the kitchen into the living room, wavering as they bent to pull off their shoes.

Otabek dropped her phone back down onto the table, and relaxed back down into hero pose. Yuri knew well enough that the music meant yoga was happening and would turn off the heat on the food at the very least. Nothing to worry about, especially after hearing the pan drop onto the stove grates and the oven door close. Beka closed her eyes and reclined backwards into a beginners reclining hero. To be honest, Otabek had once dreamed of being flexible enough to recline completely to the floor relying only on her abs and obliques, but that was abandoned for more realistic goals (like so much of her training had become). If you saw her in a yoga studio, it would be hard to tell that she was a world class athlete, and yet she was one. That made it worth going through flexibility training after ignoring it for nearly a decade.

The ballet fuelled feather-like footsteps coming into the living room were ignored too, and Yuri casually dropped down into a squat behind Beka’s form and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. This caused Otabek’s eyes to open a tiny slit and an acknowledging hum to slip out from behind her lips. Yuri looked so tired, and yet a warm smile still cracked onto her face when Otabek’s eyes met hers. Beka leaned forward to relax her abdominals and Yuri came around to her front and sit down on the end of her mat.

“... So how was ballet today?” Otabek quickly asked politely while crossing her legs and stretching out her arms. 

Yuri starts to stretch into a sitting dancer’s pose like it’s the easiest thing in the world before letting out a quick snicker and saying, “Oh man, Lilia was great, I bet she had an awesome time making me repeat the same 12 seconds of my footwork for over an hour until it was perfect enough to move on.”

Ah… so a rough afternoon for everyone. Whoops.

Beka looks up to catch Yuri’s eyes. They won’t meet hers anymore, and a grimace crossed her lips as she pulls her heel closer to her back. Otabek hesitates for a second, unsure if it would make Yuri more upset if she said that she was sorry, but nothing else coming to her mind seems appropriate.

“I’m sorry…” 

“No. It’s not actually fine, but it’s fine. I’ll get over it,” Yuri dropped her foot then and leaned forward, capturing Otabek’s shoulders in her hands and pushing their lips together, still without making eye contact. 

When they first started this “mutually beneficial casual affection” thing, Yuri only full on kissed her as a distraction to prevent Beka from getting anxious over what she had said. That worked exactly 1.25 times before she caught on and reprimanded Yuri for it. 

_The stress must really be fucking with her today, then._

Otabek deepened their kiss, wrapping her arms around Yuri’s waist just under the edge of her loose dancer’s crop top, before pulling her face away the tiniest distance. She felt Yuri let out a staccato sigh at the break. As Otabek looked down to her eyes, they were open, but still looking away (in fact, they were staring intently at the door frame behind her). So. Damn. Stubborn. 

Tilting her head around to Yuri’s ear, Otabek spoke in just under a whisper, “Sorry sweetheart, that isn’t gonna fly today. Please look at me, it will be okay, you’ll feel better if you do,” 

She gave a concise peck to the tense jawline in front of her as she sat back on her heels. The little kiss caused Yuri’s eyes to flutter more than when she had full on kissed Beka barely thirty seconds before. When she finally dragged her eyes to Otabek’s, the turquoise welled over so quickly Otabek hadn’t even had a chance to blink herself. 

“I’msosorryit’snoteventhatbadwhyamIcrying,” hurtled out of Yuri’s mouth. She tried to force down a sob that rounded after the tripping words but it hiccuped out anyways. One of her delicate, beautiful hands came up to her face, the heel of her hand pushing at the edge of her eye to wipe away some of the tears.

All at once, the situation made itself very apparent to Otabek of how differently Yuri dealt with her emotions (and how Otabek didn’t). Maybe that’s why Yuri seemed so free even when she was stressed, she held so little of her day to day baggage inwards. She simply pushed it away from herself in waves until all that was left was confidence that she would be better.

Otabek was unable to form that into appropriate sentences in that moment, so instead she mimicked deep breathing exercises, feeling like she was casually coaching someone in labor (which she had only done once in her life prior, so it wasn’t much practical help). Yuri, on the other hand, was trying really hard to suck air into her lungs and stop the flow of tears. In a sincere attempt to comfort, Otabek raised her hand, fingers grazing the cheekbone on the other side of her face that was coating in tears, and Yuri leant her cheek into the warm palm. 

She moved and took Yuri’s hand by the wrist and lowered it from where it was desperately clasped and pressed to her upper chest. As she eased the tense muscles open and lined their fingers up, Yuri’s breathing stuttered again. Otabek looked down from Yuri’s face, and peered at the fine bones of her hand, feeling so fragile underneath Beka’s hand, like she’d be able to flick her fingers and they’d shatter...

And then, the trance broke as Yuri involuntarily (and loudly) sniffed in as her nose began to run. A fake laugh followed with a quietly mumbled “I’m sorry”, and the younger finally started to catch her breath. The tears slowed, and Otabek took a second to fold their hands together.

“You know, I might feel a bit better than I did before.”

“I don’t want to say I told you so…” The words slipped out of Otabek’s mouth before she could control herself, looking back up to Yuri with a small grin.

Yuri let out one of her real scoffy laughs, her extra hand threading into Otabek’s hair and scratching across the edge of her undercut, “I haven’t been this healthy in dealing with frustration in years- since I still lived with Grandpa. It’s all because of you. I owe so much to you, you have no idea...”

Otabek took a small pause to let a bit of a confused expression onto her face before replying, “I’m glad… I’m happy you get so much out of having a shoulder to cry on because I’m not great at much else for comfort.”

“C’mon, that’s a lie and you know it.” Yuri’s piercing eyes dug in then, and Otabek felt the annoying prick of misunderstanding climb her spine.

“No, I’m being completely serious, Yura. It would do no good for me to throw out useless suggestions because in the end you always find the right thing to do, the right thing to say. How to move on, how to be the best. And it comes so easily to you, there’s no way anything I could say in the context of what you do would be of any help. I can’t even help myself.”

Yuri held a pause now, letting out a sigh as she moved forward to move their foreheads together. Otabek lets her, closing her eyes as anxiety clouded over her head.

“That’s not what I want from you, zolotse. I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like I was dumping my problems on you and just moving on. The fact that you’re here at all means everything to me. You are the most stable love I have in this world now, including skating… I wish there was something else I could say…”

“Say I can stay.” 

The words scare Otabek back away from Yuri after they leave her mouth, but for once her anxiety has her frozen in place, so she lets them linger in the air alone. Yuri’s expression morphs between emotions, and Otabek can pick out every single one as they flash across her face. Otabek clenches her teeth and loses focus on Yuri’s eyes as she wills herself to not cry when Yuri’s expression turns to confused sadness. To heartbreak.

“Of course you can stay, you’re staying for the rest of the season, right? Has something changed, are you going back to Almaty? Beka, what’s happening?” The words run off of Yuri’s tongue, unable to hold in the confused questions. Otabek feels horrible to make Yuri like this, but the best way to say what she wants is escaping her and she can’t focus on anything but holding herself together. Yuri’s fingertips touch her side so lightly and it takes everything in her not to flinch. Somehow Yuri pulls together every observant bone in her body and notices. Of course.

“Hey, it’s okay, whatever’s going on will be okay. You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. If you do want to go home, if you need to go home, it will be okay.”

Otabek lets out a sigh as the ice begins to drain off. Her words are so sweet but misguided, not her fault in the least. It’s not about going home, and it’s not about staying in Russia.

It’s about loving Yuri.

“I miss Almaty so much. I miss my mom more now than I ever did at 15. I miss waking up to oppressively hot humidity and riding the backroads out of the city at night, chasing the sunset. I have no idea how much longer I’m going to be competitively viable. That’s just the nature of what we do. I do know I love my family and I love my home.”

Yuri’s expression seems warm, but for her real thoughts are for once hidden below the surface. The sharp breath she takes as she closes her gorgeous eyes leaves goosebumps across Otabek’s skin, “Just… please don’t tell me you’re retiring midseason… I genuinely don’t have enough energy left to cry again.”

“I’m not retiring midseason, I couldn’t ever let myself give up like that after everything my team has put into this. How much team Russia has given up adjusting to adding an additional skater at this stage in the year…”

“After Katsudon and Viktor finally completely retired last year, I think we can fit ten of you here. You’re perfect where you are, please don’t think Yakov and the rest of us don’t want you here.”

Otabek feels even more of that ridiculous ice crack away now as she finally pulls a small smile. Yuri is exactly who she says she is, no surprises there. Despite the fact that they happily went to Hasetsu together after last season finished to celebrate the other couple’s retirement, this is something that Yuri has never changed on. They had actually discussed it on the flight back from Japan because Otabek was curious and all Yuri had to say was, “why give up now?” All bark and no bite, at least indicated by the group hug outside the inn as they were piling into a taxi that Yuri easily folded into not an hour before.

Her reliability was starting to feel like home.

“Yuri, if you’ll let me, I want to stay with you. When I’m done skating, I want to stay with you. I will wait for you. And if that means my heart stays in Russia with you for another ten years, I will happily. Because… because I love you.”

Yuri’s hand comes up to mirror Otabek’s own from before, lightly rubbing at her cheekbone, Otabek having been unaware that tears had built up and spilled over. She quickly realizes that it was in relief. Glassy water-like turquoise peers at her, a contented smile spreading across Yuri’s face as she starts nodding. The first quirk of that smile has Otabek moving towards Yuri, wrapping her arms around her waist and tightening the embrace. The heat passing between their skin where they’re pressed together is comforting as Yuri turns to her ear.

“Beka you can stay, I’ve told you a million times you can. I love you too. I want to tell you about this dream I keep thinking about, though.”

Otabek lets out a soft chuckle at the turn this quickly took, and Yuri’s eyes move quickly again, trying to phrase something that sounds less bad and dismissive.

“No, seriously! It’s a real thing we need to talk about since we’re talking about commitment, it’s not anything weird.”

“It’s alright Yuri, as long as we’re on the same page with everything.”

“Yes! Now, I keep having this dream about after we retire… And I’m wondering if it could be what you’re searching for. This dream… I think it’s us landing in Almaty back from Hasetsu, and I feel… relieved. Like I’m home, just like you are and it feels so solacing, like what I’ve been waiting for since I started skating professionally and Grandpa passed. I want that to be our real future together, y’know? And I want it to be more than something you yearn for while waiting for me to catch up.”

Otabek pulled back a bit to catch Yuri’s gaze a final time as she took a deep breath. 

“I guess I’ll just have to win a few more Grand Prix for us while I wait.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My beta suggested this as a conclusion-  
> rae: and then Yuri jokily punched Otabek in the bicep and Beka laughed in her face before they have real kiss, yay!  
> me: and then the fire alarm goes off because Yuri didn’t turn off the rice, whoops  
> rae: adios rice, we hardly knew ye.
> 
> Ready for some fun facts? 
> 
> 1\. I’m a big gay and I wanted more f/f fics for Yuri on Ice. That’s it. I was honestly inspired by the absolute lack of yoi lesbians, especially otabek / yuri. There’s like two good fem o/y fics and it makes me sad :( p.s. i kinda hate when people change their names with their gender in fics, makes me cringe into next week every time, but i know that's probably just me.
> 
> 2\. Okay, music stuff! Marina and the Diamonds I’m a Ruin was big in this, but I also got a lot of tone from Lies and Living Dead from Electra Heart. Title is from The Killers Glamorous Indie Rock & Roll. The Hot Fuss version, which is soooo better than the Sawdust ver.
> 
> 3\. This piece is waaaay too long for the story I was trying to tell, but after five months of working it down to this I’m happy to send it out into the universe for what it is.
> 
> 4\. Otabek is 23 and Yuri is 21 in this fic.
> 
> 5\. Otabek’s perspective is hard to write to begin with (and keep in character) and then you bring fem Otabek into it and I'm basically ready for death. I love her so much though, and I’m only a masochist for Otabek.
> 
> 6\. If you couldn’t tell, this was kinda wrapped a little bit around the idea of love languages, and I usually hc that Yuri’s LL is physical touch / quality time and Otabek’s is more like words of affirmation / acts of devotion.
> 
> 7\. (Seven facts is enough right??) this fic came into existence because rae mentioned fem otabek doing yoga and i was like '...fuck'
> 
> twitter = pixielle22 / tumblr = pixielle.


End file.
